


take my hand

by trebleclef2011



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Babies, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trebleclef2011/pseuds/trebleclef2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FLUFF</p>
            </blockquote>





	take my hand

.  
.  
.

It's morning when it clicks. Korra holds Saya; she's just finished feeding her and Mako is busy finishing breakfast. Saya rumbles around, gripping her mother tightly as she tries to eat. She frowns and reaches up, forcing her chopsticks askew not four inches from her mouth. She's going to have to put her back in the crib, because that was the third bite of eggs she's grabbed and splattered everywhere. Haru, her four-year-old son, sits across from her at the table in their kitchen and picks up his own share of eggs, throwing them against the wall. Korra pouts as she sees this, missing the food Mako had cooked.

“But why would you do that?” she says to her son.

Haru shrugs, laughing. He gets up and goes over to Mako, screaming and hugging his legs as he tries to move about to finish the rice.

“Daddy!” he says.

“Please sit down, Haru,” Mako says, reaching down to nudge his son in the direction of the table. Korra groans when Saya, who has begun to cry and pull on her mother’s hair. 

"That's it," Korra says, holding the baby away from her while she grabs at everything within arms’ reach. "We have got to do something else."

"What do you mean?" Mako says as he picks up Saya, going to lay her down in the bassinet before they begin eating. She's too small for a chair, still unable to eat solid foods, and they watch her as Mako spoons rice onto Korra's plate. Haru wiggles uncomfortably in place. 

"We need a break. She's three months old. That's nearly a whole year that we haven't been doing anything but thinking about babies and baby food and worrying about her. And also, we haven’t done anything fun for ourselves in years. We need a break. I'm calling Asami." Korra watches as Mako eats his rice thoughtfully, swallowing before he agrees and comes up with an idea for their children to be watched.

"We can leave him with Bo. He's already got three children, he'll be a good babysitter," Mako says.

Korra snorts. "They're married, Mako, it's not that big a deal." 

“I know,” Mako says. “I just worry that Asami won’t be able to help because she’s pregnant and not very mobile right now.”

Korra bursts into laughter, thinking about her best friend, enormous, and unable to do anything except wait for Bolin to bring her food and plans while she attempted to work from home. 

"Do you like the food?" he says.

"Yeah," Korra says. “Haru, stop that!”

Haru puts down his rice, clutched tightly in his little hand, and wipes it on his shirt before running off down the hall to his room.

“Haru!” Mako gets up and runs after him. When he comes back, the boy slung over his shoulder and Mako’s face covered in saliva. 

“Did he get into Naga’s pen again?”

“Yeah,” Mako says, setting him down in his booster seat and tying the rope over him (Asami’s suggestion) before sitting back down, burying his face in his hands. Korra leans over, patting his shoulder before returning to her food.

“We definitely need a night off,” Mako says.

“I’ll take them over in a while,” Korra says, laughing at her husband. She reaches over, pulling a piece of rice out of his hair. She holds it for a second before flicking it at him.

“You got some -”

“Don’t even,” Mako says, his mouth still partially full of food.

.  
.  
.

Later that night, the couple loads into their Satomobile before taking their family over to the Sato mansion, the new one that Asami had redone a few years ago before Bolin had married her. 

Korra rings the doorbell, tugging Haru along as he runs toward the house, excited to see Uncle Bo and Aunt Asami. Mako walks behind more slowly, holding Saya as she sleeps on his shoulder. Her thumb is in her mouth and he rustles her black hair as they wait.

Bolin answers the door, and Haru runs inside.

“We’re going out. Thanks!” Korra says before Mako hands Bo his baby daughter and clutches his wife’s hand, running back toward their car.

“You owe me!” Bolin yells as Asami walks up, wondering what the commotion is. Their other children peek around them as they watch their aunt and uncle drive away.  
“Yeah, yeah!” Mako says before they drive away.

.  
.  
.

They drive slowly through the city, Mako at the wheel because, frankly, Korra is a terrible driver and had gotten into accidents with various fire hydrants and poles more times than Mako cared to count. 

This issue is, he doesn’t know where they’re going.

“No, no,” Korra says as he turns left. “You turned too early. The party is on Fourth street, not Second!”

“Fine,” Mako says, turning them around. They continue down further until they find the club they are looking for. It’s a jazz club, and Korra has to go get changed in the bathroom before they go in. Mako had changed before they’d come, but for some reason, Korra hadn’t.

“I want it to be a surprise. We don’t have enough of those anymore,” she’d said.

Mako goes inside, waiting by the food tables for his wife to get done changing into the dress she’d brought. He munches on some of the dumplings when another girl comes up to him, expecting him to dance with her. He’s not really up for the idea, and says he’s waiting for someone.

“Oh, she’s not here yet, come on!” the girl grabs his hand and he pulls away. 

“Seriously, ma’am, I can’t!” 

She pulls roughly on his hand before he sees Korra show up in the archway of the entrance to the main dancing room. The entire club, excluding this girl pulling on him, turns to look at the Water Tribe woman. Her hair is in a low bun and her deep blue dress sparkles in the ambient light. She’s got the attention of her husband, but she’s not happy to see this girl persistent on his arm. He pulls away and looks at Korra helplessly.

The Avatar walks over, pulling Mako close to her, and he puts an arm around her waist. She leans up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and the girl, her hands dropped her her sides, opens her mouth in awe.

“Hey babe,” Korra says. “Who’s this?”

“What’s your name?” Mako says.

“Rai,” the girl says. She looks to be of Fire Nation descent, and is dressed inappropriately for this venue. 

“Rai, honey,” Korra begins, putting her best “Mama Avatar” voice, “It’s just not nice to hit on other people’s husbands. Especially the husband of the Avatar.”

“Oh,” Rai says, turning away. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Bye!” she says as Rai walks off to find some other poor fool to seduce.

“So,” Korra says, refreshed from her time in the bathroom. “Wanna dance, Cool Guy?”

“Sure,” Mako says, taking her hand and spinning her out onto the floor.

.  
.  
.

The first few songs are fast, and not what they’re used to. Mako trips over himself a fair amount, not only because it’s been nearly five years since he’s danced at all, but also because they'd only gone dancing once or twice before. And his childhood certainly didn't warrant much time for it. Korra isn't the best at letting him lead, so they spin clumsily around the dance floor, trying to swing dance to the music of the saxophones and trumpets.

"Oh, this club is great," Korra says.

"But I can't do this at all!" Mako says, upset because of his difficulties with dancing.

"It doesn't matter," she says. "Just enjoy yourself."

Mako eventually gives up on fast dances and goes to sit down in the corner, getting a small cup of water. Korra joins him, holding a cocktail and adjusting her dress as they sit down at the table. 

"What's in that?" Mako says.

"Cactus juice," Korra says.

"Oh no," Mako says. "No, not tonight."

"Oh, pipe down, it's only a little bit. Here, try some."

Mako looks at his wife warily, but takes the glass, sipping some of it. Surprisingly, it's delicious, much better tasting than the fire whiskey General Iroh usually liked to serve at his parties.

"Where'd you get this?" Mako says, and Korra points toward the bartender. He walks over and brings back a different drink, also with cactus juice.

They sit for awhile, talking about their work and the children and Asami and Bolin’s new baby and what they’re going to do when it’s time to visit Korra’s parents again.

“You know they always spoil them,” Mako says, leaning his hand into his palm as he sips on his cocktail.

“I know,” Korra says. 

.  
.  
.

Meanwhile, Asami is sitting on her couch, looking through her magnifying glasses at some plans for a prototype Satomobile, using a pencil to make small marks and adjustments before the machine can be constructed. She feels her baby kick and pats her stomach, trying to calm him (she’s had a feeling it’s a him) down before he kicks her plans onto the floor and she has to ask Bo to hand them to her. Again.

Bolin is busy wrangling children in the kitchen, where he’s trying to warm up some infant formula for Saya, and make Haru go to sleep. He was really demanding, especially when Bolin’s other three children were also complaining, wanting snacks and chocolate milk.

“Uncle Bo,” Haru says. “Is it true you were a pro-bender?”

“You know I was,” Bolin says proudly, waiting for Saya to take hold of the bottle he was holding close to her mouth. “Your mom and dad were too.”

“WOW, REALLY?” Haru says. He starts bending the water in the sink and splashing his cousins. Bolin’s oldest earthbends a wall between herself and Haru, putting her siblings on that side of the wall to protect them. 

“Cut it out, Haru!” she says.

Bolin plants one foot and forces the wall down, and bends the metal chairs to contain the children while he tries to feed the baby.

“Settle down!” he says. “You all need to go to bed, anyway.”

“My kitchen!” Asami says, standing in the doorway.

“Sorry, honey,” Bolin says, wincing as he surveys the damage.

“You’d better fix this,” she says. “We had marble floors!”

“Dad’s in trouble,” the middle child says. Their youngest snickers.

“Dad is not in trouble,” Asami says, looking down at her devious children. “You all are in trouble.”

“No!” Haru says, gasping.

.  
.  
.

Suddenly a slow song comes on, and Mako stands up, buzzed from the cactus juice, and pulls Korra to her feet, but she stops, and he looks at her. Even through the haze he can tell she is, for some reason, nervous about the slow song, which he recognizes as the one they played at their wedding.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I just…don’t want to embarrass myself in front of all these people…”  
“Take my hand,” Mako says, holding it out to her.

Korra looks at it warily before placing her own in it. “Okay.”

Suddenly they’re in the middle of the floor, the crowd making space for them, and he pulls her close as the song begins to pick up. It’s very slow, and their steps are deliberate. Korra keeps looking at her feet, anxious and angry that she can’t do it just right. Mako pulls her face up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just so bad at this, and everyone’s watching…”

“Hey,” he says, kissing her lips once, “it’s just you and me right now. Don’t worry about them.” 

Korra smiles, blushing, and puts her head on Mako’s shoulder as they continue dancing to the soft ballad.

.  
.  
.

Once they’ve got all the children in bed, Asami and Bolin begin to settle down on the couch to sleep. Because she’s about two weeks away from giving birth, she gets most of the couch and Bolin sits on the end, her feet in his lap.

They sit talking for a few minutes until Haru walks into the living room, rubbing his eyes. 

“Hey, Haru,” Asami says, and Bolin turns his head. “What’s up?”

“I can’t sleep,” the little boy says.

“Why?” Bolin says as he walks in front of the sofa.

“I miss my mommy,” Haru says.

“She’ll be back soon,” Asami says.

“But I can’t sleep,” he says, and Bolin picks him up. The boy puts his head on his uncle’s shoulder as they begin to leave.

“We’ll find them, don’t you worry,” Bolin says, remembering what it was like not to want to sleep because his mother wasn’t there to tuck him in at night.

Asami falls asleep soon after they leave, Bolin driving a Satomobile with a carseat Asami developed holding the boy in the back seat.

They drive around until they find the club Korra and Mako had gone to, because Bolin had requested that information just in case, and he held Haru as he walked in to find them. He asked the doorman where they’d been, describing a Water Tribe woman and a tall man of Fire Nation descent. They’d gone somewhere that wasn’t frequented by the Avatar, so he’d had to improvise. The man almost hadn’t let him take Haru in, but he’d pulled a few strings with his badge from the United Forces.

“Where are Mommy and Daddy?” Haru says. “Why is it so dark?”

Bolin looks throughout the club quickly before he sees the hallway and goes over, beating on the wall hard enough for them to hear.

Korra comes out of the dark alcove quietly, tugging her husband along with red faces. She sees Haru, half-asleep and with tears in his eyes, on Bolin’s shoulder and holds her arms out for him.  
“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Haru says, and yawns. He puts his head down on her shoulder. “It’s not the same.”

Mako takes the boy and settles him on his hip before thanking his brother. Haru immediately falls to sleep on his father’s shoulder, throwing a small arm around his neck. Korra begins to walk toward the entrance of the club, preparing to leave. She grabs her bag of regular clothes and they go to their separate cars.

Later, when they’re driving back to their apartment, Korra reaches out and pats her baby’s head as he sleeps on his father’s shoulder. 

They put him down to sleep, finally, in his room back at their apartment. Korra’s sad expression shows how badly she feels about his insomnia, but he’s been asleep for a half hour before they make it home after picking up Saya. 

Korra sits on her bed, waiting, when Mako walks back in the room after putting Saya in her crib.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting next to her.

“I’m a terrible mother,” Korra says.

“Why would you say that?” Mako says. “You’re a fantastic mother.”

“Well, Haru couldn’t even go to sleep tonight! All because we wanted a stupid break.”

“We needed that break,” Mako says. “And I didn’t even get to finish my dance.” He stands up and goes over to the phonograph in the corner of their room, a wedding present from a kind shopkeeper Korra had helped on her first visit to the city. He put on a slow song and opens the window to let the air in.

Mako walks over, standing in front of his wife in her nightgown, himself shirtless and hair messy.

“Take my hand.”

Korra smiles, blushing again. “Okay.”

He pulls her up, holding her close to him as they sway. He puts one hand on her lower back and the uses the other to hold her hand as they spin around their small bedroom.

Korra begins laughing when Mako dips her low, because despite her inadequacies, he had proven a fantastic dancer.

Holding her over the ground, Mako takes his hand from hers to hold her head.

“Hey babe,” he says. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

Korra doesn’t say anything, but grips his shoulders as she pulls herself up to press her lips gently against his.

Mako brings her upright and looks down into her embarrassed face.

“It’s just you and me right now,” he says quietly, putting both hands on either side of her face and making her look at him. She smiles, and he grins before he kisses her again. 

“Love you,” she says, turning red as he pulls away to breathe. 

“Sometimes I wonder why,” he says before kissing her firmly again. He sits down on the bed and she sits next to him, opening his mouth with hers. Her kiss is like a caress.

“You don’t have to wonder. You’re awesome. Best dad ever.”

“You think?” he asks, getting a little teary-eyed.

“Yes, Mr. Hat Trick,” she says, putting his hand on her stomach. Mako’s breath catches as he realizes.

“I love you, Mrs. Hat Trick,” he says, laying her down on the bed as he kisses her once again, then kisses her hand, and finally, her stomach.

.  
.  
.


End file.
